Snip Snip Snippets

Snip Snip Snippets

I cut my own hair yesterday. It wasn’t the first time. Since my hair has thinned considerably in the last few years, my penny-pinching personality does not see the need to spend a lot of money for someone to take a few snips. All of us have had a bad experience at the hair salon. Now, if I’m not happy with the result, I have no one to blame but myself. And it was free!

There are such a variety of current styles; chances are my amateur trims will fit right in. Have you seen the Traffic Girl on Global Edmonton? She probably paid a fortune for that scraggly hatchet job. I am so busy looking at her hair, I can’t remember anything about the traffic. I can do my worst and still look better than she does. Of course it helps to have a healthy dose of self-esteem. After all, it’s only hair.

If you are feeling adventurous do try this at home. The first thing you need to do is look in the mirror and decide that you like your face. Hair is optional. So, if you mess up the cut, your face can stand-alone. Think Yul Brynner. The man was a god!

It also helps if you are not a perfectionist and a bit of a risk taker. I qualify in both of those categories. If it doesn’t work out there is always “Plan B” and no, B is not for Bald, but rather Beautician.

We can all recall cutting our doll’s hair when we were kids. “Dream Girl Barbie” became “Punk Chick Babette”, Permanently! At least our hair will grow back.

I’ve always been adventurous with my hair. A few years ago I dyed it Nuclear Red. People stared; dogs growled; babies cried. Even I gasped every time I looked in the mirror, but I kept that red hair for two years. I was going for a Maureen O’Hara look but ended up like Lucille Ball on Mood Enhancers. I guess I was just going through a phase.

Now I’ve settled back into a soft and sweet Blonde, sort of a Marilyn Monroe meets Madonna with a touch of Mae West. (can you tell I am into old movies? Just wait for the blog on that!)

Eventually I’ll let it go au naturelle and show off the grey. But at this point, I’m not ready for the Steve Martin look- alike contest just yet.

We are fortunate to live in an era when women do not need to conform to one standard. Short or long, dyed or natural, bald or wigged, anything goes. Our hair is a reflection of our personality and an expression of our self image.

After the emotional trauma of a death or divorce, many women make a drastic change in their hairstyle. It’s symbolizes both physical and psychological new beginnings. It’s like taking an Etcha-sketch and turning it upside down to shake. We shake off the old and embrace the new.

Changing our hair often reflects a change in our circumstance. When women gained the right to vote they shed the rigid Victorian restrictions: corsets were cast off and hair was cut.

A few generations later with the rise of Women’s Lib, bras were burned and hair was grown long and swung free. Remember these lyrics in the musical HAIR : “Give me down to there hair; shoulder length or longer”. It was the battle cry of our generation, a passive protest against the Establishment.

Devout women in India cut off their hair as an offering to the gods. The monks then gather the shorn locks and sell them to wigmakers all over the world. It’s a huge industry. The Gods may be impressed, the women express their devotion and the monks have a valuable source of revenue. Everybody wins.

Alas, neither the Gods nor the monks want my hair, but I plan to keep on cutting it myself, even if I look like the little Dutch Boy on the paint cans. Or maybe he looks like me!